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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29424021">what to get the masked woman who has everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee'>fangirl_squee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bridgerton (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Femslash February, Identity Reveal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:56:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29424021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know who is flying? Lady Whistledown. <i>She</i> is up in the sky.”</p>
<p>Or, how your secret identity having a good time can get in the way of <i>you</i> having a good time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what to get the masked woman who has everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy valentine's day to these two and to you all</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It is most difficult, to have a double life. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope supposed that she ought to have expected it, especially as Lady Whistledown’s paper continued to grow in popularity with each new piece of gossip she uncovered. She had not begun with that particular end in mind. It had started as something of a lark, really, something to put together after being ignored all evening at whatever ball or party she’d been forced to attend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or, not entirely ignored. There was always Eloise, ready to talk to her and with her on any and every topic either of them could think of and, on a small number of occasions, even to dance with her (away from the eyes of others, of course, around the corner of a garden on in some empty hallway).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That had become part of the problem. There was always Eloise, and most recently all Eloise wanted to discuss was the identity of Lady Whistledown. Penelope was sure that under ordinary circumstances she would have found it to be a most enjoyable diversion, that perhaps if she had not been the lady herself even the idea of knowing the identity could have been a fun secret for them to whisper about. As it was, it was her secret alone and decidedly no fun at all to keep from Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope would have told her, really, but Eloise would be the first to tell you… well, anything. She could not keep her true feelings to herself about any topic at all, even if she were asked not to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was part of why Penelope loved her so. She could admit as much in her own mind, that she loved Eloise Bridgerton more dearly and more fiercely than any other creature in the world. Another secret to keep from Eloise, lest it be shouted from the rooftops and ruin them both.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d had some small respite, when Eloise believed she had discovered Lady Whistledown’s identity. That in itself had been helpful twofold, one in that it allowed her to not have to be so on her guard when it came up in a topic of conversation with Eloise, and two in that, were it not for Eloise involving herself in the hunt of Whistledown so completely, she should never have heard about the trap waiting for Whistledown in time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A shame, really, that she could not give Eloise proper thanks for saving her. Nor could she repay Eloise her almost constant stream of compliments to Whistledown, although in that, at least, Penelope did not feel so charitable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How odd, to be jealous of oneself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise’s eyes sparkled as she spoke of Whistledown’s wit, her cunning. She crackled with energy as they walked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Penelope made them stop to admire some fabric. The crowded nature of the market allowed her to step a little closer to Eloise than she should ordinarily have been allowed, closer even than when they walked arm-in-arm. Despite her practice at secrets, Penelope found it hard to pretend that she did not wish to be so close always.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is a shame you have no way to meet her,” said Penelope, “She will never know that you hold her in higher esteem than anybody else.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise opened her mouth and then huffed a breath, a sure sign that she’d changed what she thought she ought to say more than once. Penelope always found it captivating that Eloise’s mind worked so quickly, even if it was so often to her detriment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps it will help me to discover her some day,” said Eloise, “She will know I think well of her, and thus will be reassured that she can reveal herself to me, and we can be of two like minds outside of the cage of society.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would think that she quite likes being in society,” said Penelope, “She must like it at least a little, since that is what she writes about.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s so much more!” said Eloise, “It’s, listen-” She dug into her pocket, pulling out an old copy of Whistledown’s society papers. “It could just be a list of unfounded gossip, but it is not that! Not only is she remarkable in her observations, she also has turned some of the most dreadful events I have ever had the displeasure at being dragged to into a study of human nature itself! Here, listen-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise began to read from the paper. Penelope didn’t need to listen to the words, indeed, she remembered writing them only recently, on a night she was feeling particularly prickly over her mama’s behaviour, shoving Prudence towards an unsuitable match just for the sake of saying she’d had one for the length of a ball. She found that the sharper she felt when she was writing, the more the young ladies of high society seemed to find a kind of solace in her words, even when some of the barbs were directed at them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope refocussed as Eloise came to the end of the paragraph, smiling up at Eloise’s flushed face and bright eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it not delightful to hear such truths being said aloud?” said Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose,” said Penelope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>suppose</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, she is not really saying them </span>
  <em>
    <span>aloud</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is she?” said Penelope, “She’s publishing them anonymously.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Worry clouded Eloise’s face. “And with good reason.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope lowered her voice. “Is her majesty still hunting for her?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As far as I know,” whispered Eloise. “I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>officially</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the investigation anymore- or, at least, not until I have something good enough to convince the queen to let me back on the case, but I- well! I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground, as they say, and I do believe I will discover Whistledown’s identity long before they ever will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope certainly felt more inclined to let her, especially when she was like this, bright eyed and clutching tight to Penelope’s arm. It always made Penelope feel as though she was an alluring suitor, even if their topic of conversation was secret identities instead of wedding plans.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you will,” said Penelope, allowing the warmth she felt in her chest to leech into the words. “But do be careful, won’t you? You almost got caught, trying to save her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> save her,” said Eloise, “And I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> careful.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope laughed, leaning against Eloise a little as they walked. Eloise smiled, leaning into her as well. She kept her arm linked around Penelope’s until they reached the Bridgerton doorstep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would invite you in but they’ve all been in such a spin since Daphne wrote of having a second child,” said Eloise, “You’d think that it were coming immediately rather than several months from now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>exciting,” said Penelope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doubly so, since it meant she was unlikely to have to write anything too scathing about Daphne and Simon in the near future. If it were anything like their first pregnancy, they would both be too glowing with happiness to cause much in the way of scandal, at least for themselves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose,” said Eloise, sounding very much like she did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> suppose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope ducked her head to hide a smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Things continued on in a similar fashion. Penelope gathered gossip where and when she could, taking extra precautions as she took the pages to print. Luckily Eloise’s involvement had not been required further. If what Eloise had been able to overhear was to be believed, the queen had indeed been thinking along the same lines as previous, tracking the movements of tradespeople and their wives through the city.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was more than just the queen’s watchful eyes that Penelope had to be wary of. Her mother may not have paid her much attention when compared to her sisters in the past, but with their father gone she was more watchful of her daughter’s movements. Others in the city continued to be as easy to fool as ever, their eyes sliding over her as though she were of no more note than an errant chair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With Whistledown, such behaviour had become easier to bear. As long as she had Eloise during the ball and Whistledown after it, being overlooked had lost a great deal of its sting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The duke and duchess’ celebration of their second child is sure to be the highlight of the season, but some of our society wear their rising excitement better than others. Keep your ear to the ground, as they say, dear reader, for the aftermath of this particular ball is sure to bring as many fireworks as the event itself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise frowned down at the page, mouthing along to the words she had just read aloud. She dropped the page to her lap, her frown deepening as she looked towards the window of the sitting room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep you ear to the ground,” mused Eliose, “I wish I could remember where I heard that most recently. It just sounds so blasted familiar.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eloise</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” said Violet, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Language</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry mother,” said Eloise, her eyes already back on the page. “I just feel sure that I have heard such phrasing before.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope’s chest felt tight. Eloise had not heard it, she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, the phrasing sticking in Penelope’s mind so tightly that it had made their way onto the page. She cursed herself, taking a sip of tea to hide her expression as Eloise puzzled aloud over the words. She took her leave early from the Bridgerton house that day, feigning a headache. She gave the same story to her mother, who thankfully allowed her to retire to her room for the afternoon instead of sitting in their lounge, waiting for their scant suitors to drop by.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, spending the afternoon at rest made for a restless night. She sat by the window, her finger tracing the edge of the secret compartment in her desk that hid her supply of writing materials. There would most likely not be cause to publish again until after the party, but she did rather miss the act of it. There was, unfortunately, not much to write about that would be of particular interest, unless the public at large developed a keen interest in the daily life of Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a flash of light from across the street, catching Penelope’s attention. It was the flicker of a candle in Eloise’s window, the light appearing and then disappearing as Eloise signalled to her. It had been their game ever since they were children, Eloise pulling Penelope from her rooms at odd hours to talk on all manner of things. Penelope covered and uncovered her own candle to signal back, turning away from the window to dress quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The house was blessedly quiet as she snuck out of their back door, quickly crossing the street to the side entrance of the Bridgerton household. She ducked under the window to the study, where Anthony was bent over the family’s ledgers, making her way to the swing set in the back garden.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise was already there, a cigarette hanging from her fingertips as she tilted back in the swing to look up at the half-moon above them. She turned towards Penelope, and as Penelope approached she could see Eloise’s notebook open in her lap, filled with barely-legible scribblings of Eloise’s suspects. Penelope’s stomach twisted as she realised how many of them were crossed out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep,” said Eloise, as Penelope sat down on the swing next to her, “I just keep thinking- She’s out there, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> she’s out there.” She took a long drag on the cigarette. “And, what’s more, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> think she’s a widow.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope’s stomach twisted further, becoming a complicated sailor’s knot as she tried to keep her expression still. “But you were so sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise waved a hand. “Yes, well. I was sure that she was a servant too, and that turned out to be a complete disaster. No, now I think that she is someone of </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> age. Her opinions are far too fresh to be one of the society mamas, but she’s clearly someone with connections, someone who attends every single one of these dreadful parties. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Therefore</span>
  </em>
  <span> she must be someone who has attended enough of them that her attendance isn’t notable, but she also cannot be someone who gets into any kind of potential ruinous situations-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because if she did, she’d have to write about it,” said Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps she has,” tried Penelope, “And you have just not spotted it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I think I would have,” said Eloise, “The trouble is, which one of the poor, overlooked spinsters is it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eloise,” said Penelope, her voice too strained to have the chiding tone she’d intended.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean I’m sure they’re all lovely, far too lovely to hang their lives on meeting the right man in the right moment in my opinion.” Eloise took another drag of her cigarette. “Perhaps not a spinster, then. Perhaps someone having their first year in society, someone who’s been scorned by the experience of it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope held her breath, hardly daring to move. She tried desperately to school her expression into something closer to polite interest, or at the very least away from the feeling of panic that surged through her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The problem there is,” continued Eloise, “Too many of them are caught up in the rules of society to write something so brilliant. In fact, the only person I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>consider </span>
  </em>
  <span>to being smart and witty enough other than myself is you-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite her best efforts, Penelope could not hide the expression that moved across her face. Eloise’s expression shifted from amusement to shock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pen…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-” Penelope found she has no words left in her. Perhaps she had used them all up on the page.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stood, intending to rush to the safety of her room, but Eloise reached out, clutching at her sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Say I am a fool and I will believe it,” said Eloise quickly, her eyes searching Penelope’s face, “Penelope…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope’s chest felt too tight to take breath, let alone summon the energy required to give a convincing lie to Eloise. She very much did not want to. She very much wanted, instead, to confess all to Eloise, and let Eloise know her completely at last.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sat heavily down on the swing next to Eloise. She could feel Eloise’s eyes on her, pinning her in place, but she could not bring herself to meet her gaze.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot,” she managed to whisper, “Please, Eloise…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I- I can’t believe this,” said Eloise. She paused. “You let me go on and on about how I thought it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>widow</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope looked up at that, her eyes meeting Eloise’s for a moment before it was too much and she shifted her gaze. “Your reasoning was correct, even if your list of suspects was lacking.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” said Eloise with a laugh, “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> her!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope shushed her. Eloise covered her mouth, the corners of her eyes crinkling with delight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I admit,” said Penelope slowly, “I… was not quite expecting you to have this reaction.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How else should I react to finding out that someone I so love is so wholly talented?” said Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope was suddenly glad of both the dark and the cool night air; both helped her to hide her blush.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise nudged her side. “You of all people must know by now how much I admire Lady Whistledown’s work, after all you complain of my heaping praise upon her-” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, god. How utterly stupid I must have seemed every time-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope reached out to take her hand and Eloise’s words stuttered to a stop. “You never seemed stupid. I found such compliments quite flattering indeed. You appreciate Whistledown’s work as few others do.” She paused. “I suppose now is as good of a time as any to give you thanks for saving me, the night the queen tried to trap me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise squeezed her hands. “I could not have let the queen destroy such a work of freedom, nor could I allow the author to be so ruined.” She pressed her lips together. “I can only imagine the close calls that have happened that I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> known about.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There have been a few, but I am quite safe I assure you,” said Penelope, “Although, I admit, when I began this I did not ever expect my scribblings to cause such a stir.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>scribblings</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as you call them, are easily the most intelligent words written on our society,” said Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope was sure her face must be glowing, her cheeks burnt so. “Eloise, really.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” said Eloise, “It’s- I really can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier. Who except you could be so brilliant?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope could not say what compelled her next motion - be it the late hour, or the shock of delight that ran through her at Eloise’s words - she turned in her seat and pressed a kiss right on Eloise’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The touch was brief. When Penelope leant back, Eloise’s eyes were very wide. Penelope wet her lips, tasting the faint trace of cigarette smoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eloise, I- I-” Penelope’s throat felt too tight to push the words through at a fast enough rate. She could feel them crowding her throat, making her voice feel too rough and sore to be heard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” said Eloise. She let out a slow breath. “Well, I- I didn’t hate that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope blinked. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I always thought I’d hate that, some bore of a man crowding into my space, forcing his awful breath on me as I pretended to be in raptures of love and whatever else, but I- that was quite nice, actually.” Eloise’s gaze flicked to their joined hands and back to Penelope’s face. “I suppose that makes sense. Everything always feels much better with you, even things I ordinarily do not like at all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…I’m glad, then.” Penelope swallowed. She felt oddly shy, an unfamiliar feeling around Eloise. “Could I… would you mind awfully if I did it again?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose,” said Eloise, “As it’s you. Don’t go putting this in your papers though.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She meant it to be a joke, Penelope could tell, but the implication made Penelope’s stomach squirm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” said Penelope, ”Eloise I- I care about you a great deal. I know some of the things Whistledown wrote caused your family difficulty but I would never- I would never ruin you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise blinked. “I know, obviously, but I- I would not care a jot if you did. Mother would have conniptions, of course, but it would at least save me from suitors until such time as I can get away, wherever that might be.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I might- I could help,” said Penelope, “If- I have some money saved away, from the papers, it is not perhaps enough for an entire life but it- we would have a start, I think.” The figures ran through her mind as she adjusted for the cost of two people, and for Eloise’s particular desires. “Enough for one or two semesters of university, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise gasped. “For… you would do that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes,” said Penelope, “Oh, Eloise, I- if I could I should like to give you the world.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope could just make out the flush on Eloise’s cheeks in the moonlight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, let us start with university, and proceed to the rest of the world from there,” said Eloise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope’s heart climbed to her throat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Us</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise squeezed her hand again. “Of course. I find the world quite lacking when you are not by my side, and if I am to make the most of my travels that will not do at all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope bit her lip to try to quell the smile that threatened to overtake her face. “That sounds quite lovely.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eloise’s smile was warmer than Penelope had ever seen it. “It is, isn’t it?” She stood, pulling Penelope to stand. “Come, Whistledown, we must pack! Adventure awaits!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Penelope laughed, following after her, their fingers tangled together and the world at their feet.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come say hi: mariusperkins on most places</p></blockquote></div></div>
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